


Love; Unscripted

by MikkaKitty



Category: Chris Evans - Fandom, Sebastian Stan - Fandom
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:11:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21632914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MikkaKitty/pseuds/MikkaKitty
Summary: "A man and a woman can be just friends, but at one point or another, they will fall for each other... maybe temporarily, maybe at the wrong time, maybe too late or maybe forever." - Dave Matthews Band





	1. April

This is how I'm going to die, she thought to herself as she stared at the blue eyes in front of her and not the impossibly high cliffs around her nor the crashing waves below her. This boy is going to be the death of me.

Two weeks earlier...

Aurora Phoenix sat at the bar nursing her whiskey and coke, watching the other wedding guests laugh and sing under the blue/purple lights. She spotted the couple of the hour spinning around in the middle of it all and smiled to herself. If anyone deserved a night like this one it was Chloe. From the moment Aurora walked into her office in New York she knew that Chloe was one of the good ones. After working with her for 6 weeks to edit the book Aurora had sent in on a whim the two grew to be fast friends but it wasn't until they both ventured out on Aurora's first book tour that they created the bond that had Aurora sitting here at Chloe's wedding. 

True, when she first heard of Shayden (aka Shady) James she had questioned Chloe's sanity. He was a B-list actor on a third-rate soap opera and Aurora judged him by that more than she'd like to admit. The first few times she met him she regarded him with trepidation but he quickly had won her over with his down-to-earth personality, dirty humor and his undying love for her friend. Now, she couldn't imagine not being here to support them as they committed to each other, even if it was from a barstool. 

"Always the bridesmaid, never the bride." A man she recognized as one of the groomsmen slurred slightly as he none to gracefully plopped on the stool beside her. 

"Being the Bride can be overrated." She replied dryly.

"Ooh, is that a jaded bride I hear?" he perked up.

"Not jaded," she explained, turning to face him for the first time. "Just been there, done it."

He laughed, nearly doubling over and off the stool before catching himself and waving over the bartender.

"Two shots of whiskey, good sir." He said attempting to wink at the man behind the bar but failing miserably. "And one for my new friend here." 

The bartender just shook his head with a smile that showed years of dealing with highly intoxicated people. Aurora gave him an apologetic smile.

"I like you..." the man beside her trailed off.

"Rory" she offered

"Rory," he repeated with a smile. "I like you Rory. I just don't know why yet." 

She wondered if he had meant to say the last bit out loud or if the alcohol had it slipping past his lips. She watched him, as she was known to do, taking in his dishevelled clothes and campy demeanour. 

"I'm Scott by the way" he continued when he noticed she had not reached for the shot that had been placed in front of her. "And I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship" 

She cocked an eyebrow at him but made no move to pick up the shot glass. Not even after he raised his own in her direction. 

"Do you now?" she questioned causing him to bark some more laughter. 

"Com'on, Rory. Live a little, would ya?" he challenged. 

She didn't understand why but she picked up the tiny glass, clicking it to his before tossing the amber liquid down her throat. Slamming the glass back down she met his gaze with a challenge of her own. 

"Alright then." He nodded, impressed and shouted to the bartender "Another!"

The next morning Aurora awoke to the pounding on her hotel door. Groggily, she rolled out of bed and shuffled towards the door. She jumped back slightly when the banging sounded again as she reached for the door handle. Slightly worried now, she slowly opened the door.

"Aww, com'on. You're not ready yet?" Scott whined playfully as he pushed past her and into the room.

Stunned, she closed the door and turned to face the stranger she vaguely remembered drinking with the night before. 

"What... What are you doing?" she asked, cringing at the pain talking was causing her throat. 

"Oh, of course. Your coffee, m'lady." He held out the cup, bowing slightly as he offered to her. 

Still confused, but never one to turn down coffee in the morning, she slowly took the cup from his hands and sat back down on the bed. 

He offered her a few moments to sip at the caffeine before his excitement got the better of him. 

"So, when do we leave?" he asked and laughed as some of said coffee came out of her nose. 

"Pardon me?" she looked truly scared and it only made him laugh more. 

"You don't remember, do you?" he said, shaking his head. 

"I barely remember my own name" she groaned, rubbing at her temple with her free hand. 

"You thought that might happen," he said as he sat down beside her on the bed and handed her his phone. 

Staring up at her was a very giddy version of herself. When he hit play her own voice came crashing at her ears in a sickening high pitch. 

"Darling, lovely, gal!" she shouted into the camera. "I know you, I am you"

Rory cringed and looked away from the screen but Scott just laughed and put it back under her nose. 

"You love this boy ok? He is going to explore this great country so you don't get yourself killed, got it?" The Rory on screen tripped over something off screen and fell out of view, quickly to be replaced by an even further inebriated Scott than she had remembered. 

"See, honey. You need me." He winked before the video ended. 

"You've got to be kidding me" she said, mostly to herself. She could not believe she let herself drink so much. She could only imagine what type of fool she made out of herself last night. 

"Oh, no honey." Scott said quietly, nudging her shoulder with his. "We are in this together now."

His words brought forth a flash back of the night before. Scott grabbing her hand as an Irish jig sounded over the speakers. The two of them trying to blend in with the Bride's family as they fell into the traditional step dance. Scott and herself tripping over their own feet more than anything. 

"Look," Aurora stood so she could pace the small amount of floor between the bed and window. "I don't know what that girl promised you," she continued pointing at the phone he still held in his hand, "but I am not travelling around the country with someone I don't know." 

Scott watched her carefully. She was confused that was for sure but she was genuinely frightened and he had a suspicion it had less to do with him and more to do with watching herself from last night. 

"Com'on, Rory..."

"Live a little?" she finished for him, exasperated. "'Cause that worked out so well the first time."

"Oh, please girl. You had a blast last night. You were adorkably fun and don't worry, everyone still loves you today. Some more than before."

He wasn't wrong about the fun. As embarrassed as she was that she couldn't remember the majority of the night, the bits she did remember were the most fun she had had in years. 

"Really, what's the worst that could happen?" he asked innocently.

"You mean besides being killed and cut into little pieces?"

"You watch too many movies girl." He laughed standing in her path, forcing her to stop pacing. "I'm Shady's friend, known him for years. You can call him, he'll vouch for me."

She seriously considered it for all of 30 seconds before remembering he had just married her editor the night before. With a sigh she threw caution to the wind. 

"Give me an hour to shower and pack. I'll meet you in the lobby." She smiled and pushed him out the door.

****

"Com'on, Rory. You got to see this" he said, his excitement contagious and making her smile. She still shook her head in the negative.

"Girl, I took you to Paris." He shouted, placed his hands on his hips rather dramatically. "Get your sweet little ass over here."

Ugh, actors. She thought as she pulled the flimsy plastic poncho that had been provided out of her face and made her way, very carefully, to join him at the peak of the Irish cliff. He grabbed her hand as she joined him and together, they edged their way to the very edge and peaked into the water.

"Worth it?" he whispered in her ear and as she looked out at the amazing beauty of crashing waves, bruising wind and grass so green it shone below the clouds, she nodded in agreement.

"Just don't let go" she laughed and he wrapped his arms around her, rocking her back and forth just enough to freak her out. 

Later, as they dried off in a local pub over fish and chips and strong beer, the jovial mood subsided. 

"I can't believe its almost over." She mused.

"Hey, don't be sad." Scott leaned over to grab her hand. "You get to see your kids soon."

"I know and I'm dying to see them, I am. I just never thought I'd have so much fun, with a stranger no less." He laughed punching him lightly on the arm. 

"We are strangers no longer, I'm afraid. I told you this was a beginning of a beautiful friendship, did I not?" When she laughed and nodded, he continued. "and I don't see an ending in sight."


	2. May Pt.1

She gripped the steering wheel tighter as she waited for Scott to pick up. How’d I let him talk me into this? She wondered as the line connected.

“You lost?” his voice rang through the speakers of her car, far to happy for true concern. 

“Of course, I’m lost, loser. I told you I am directionally challenged.” She retorted.

“You don’t have to tell me, I lived it.” He laughed and she growled.

“Ok, ok, where are you?” 

When she finally made her way up the winding driveway the sin was just setting. Just a few hours behind schedule, she mused to herself as she parked her car out of the way and met Scott at the front door. She was surprised by all the noise coming from inside the house. She wasn’t expecting anyone else when she arrived. Apparently, it showed because Scott was quick to explain. 

“This is my family home and noisiest part of the family happen to be home.” He shrugged as three small children ran by laughing, quickly followed by a woman who they must belong too, a dog jogging happily behind her. “Hope that’s ok?” Scott asked, concern it may just not be creeping into his voice. 

“Yeah, it’s great." She smiled, although she’d be lying if she didn’t admit it had her anxiety spiking. 

She didn’t have much to worry about as Scott took her bag and led her into the kitchen. She was welcomed with warm smiles from his parents as well as his sister when she ran back into the room after her children who were still on the move. Lisa, his mother, offered her some of the leftovers from dinner which she gladly accepted. She sat at the breakfast bar picking at the roast and potatoes, watching the family interact. She was ever so grateful that they seemed to allow her to fade into the background and observe, making sure to include her every once in a while, so she felt less like she was intruding and just part of the family. 

Once the little people were ticked into bed, their mother right behind them, Scott ushered Rory into the living room where his mother was cracking open a bottle of wine. 

“Thank you again Lisa for letting me stay.” She said as she took the offered glass.

“It’s not a problem, dear. To be honest, I never thought I’d see the day when Scott brought a girl home.”

Rory felt the blush spread across her cheeks. “We’re not… I mean...”   
She broke off as the room burst into laughter. 

“Oh, they know that Rory. Mom just thinks she’s funny, that’s all” Scott offered. 

Thankfully his father decided to join at just that moment.

“Tell us about this trip of yours.” He smiled as he handed Scott a short glass filled with amber liquid. 

That was all Scott needed to launch into full story teller mode, rolling up his sleeves and leaning his elbows on his knees for full effect. Rory tucked into the corner of the couch to enjoy the show along with his parents. She was equally enamoured with Scott’s retelling of their adventures as she was with his parent’s reactions. She found herself watching them as they laughed along with herself and Scott. It was very interesting to her how they interacted, the small touches, the secret looks as well as the way they regarded their son with such open love and support regardless of how off-colour his story became. An hour later her fingers were itching to put them on paper. 

“You don’t talk much do you Aurora?” Lisa asked when the boys went in search of another bottle of wine. 

“I prefer to watch” she answered.

“Ooh, you dirty little girl” Scott laughed reappearing behind Rory

“Not like that you perv,” Rory laughed smacking him with the pillow she had ticked at her side. “People watching is a favorite past time of mine. It’s how I create characters. Plus, it’s fun.” 

She shrugged making Scott laugh even harder. “See, this is why she needed me to help her have some real fun.”

Lisa rolled her eyes lovingly at her son as he moved around the couch to refill her glass. She happily accepted before moving across the room to sit next to Rory.

“I’d really like to meet whoever inspired Malcom.” She said referring to the main character in Rory’s novel. 

“That’s not really how it works,” Rory laughed, “It’s more of taking bit and pieces of different people and putting them together to make a new one.”

That started a long-winded conversation about character development between the two women that finished only when the men pulled them away to bed.   
Rory settling into Scott’s insanely large bed and curled under the plush duvet. She tried desperately to reach out for sleep, but her mind was still whirling. She waited until Scott started to lightly snore before climbing back out of bed and sneaking back into the kitchen for some tea. Although the camomile would help calm her body, she knew her mind would not shut off until she got out all the things whirling around in it. So, she turned on the lamp beside the couch and settled in with her notebook she had dug out of her bag and set to work. The words just flowed now that she had some new inspiration for Malcom and the people he would encounter in book two. She was so engrossed in what she was writing, along with the instrumental playlist she was using for this second installment, she didn’t hear the front door open. 

Chris was exhausted. Travel always took it out of him, but the press tours did a number on his head every time. He was elated to finally be home. There was just something about returning to his childhood home that immediately put him at ease. He dropped the duffel bag at the door and went in search of some sustenance or at least a cold beer, something to help him relax before becoming reacquainted with his bed for the next 8-10 hours. Somewhere in the back of his mind he registered that someone had left a lamp on in the living room, but he didn’t think too much of it. He smiled to himself as he found a Tupperware container filled with leftovers and a case of microbrew that surely meant his little brother was home as well. Not bothering to heat up the food or find a proper plate for it, he made his was into the living room. That’s when the mass of red hair finally caught his attention, stopping him in his tracks. It was all he could see from where he stood, masses of red hair barely contained by the tie wrapped around them. They were moving slightly back and forth as if dancing to a mellow beat only they could hear. His brain finally restarted, and he deducted this must be Scott’s new writer friend. Curiosity got the better of him and he moved slowly until he was standing over her left shoulder. She was scribbling furiously into a notebook, and headphones hung from her ears. He squinted and leaned closer trying to decipher the rushed cursive she was leaving across the page when she jumped up in surprise, ripping the earbuds painfully from her ears. 

“I’m so sorry,” he apologized genuinely, as she grasped her notebook tightly to her chest. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

She raised one hand up and closed her eyes. He watched, fascinated, as tried to steady her breathing. The hand still extended towards him was nearly vibrating, she shook so hard. He had never seen someone so in control yet falling apart at the same time. It evoked a need help, but he was unsure how, or even if she needed it. So instead he sat on the coffee table in front of her, the faint voice of his mother scolding for doing so in the back of his mind and waited for her to reopen her eyes. It took a good five minutes before her shaking subsided enough for her to lower her hand and slowly open her eyes to meet his own. 

“You ok?” he asked cautiously.

She nodded slowly, not yet trusting her voice. 

“Meditation?” he asked causing a tiny little giggle to bubble up in her throat. 

“Kind of” she finally spoke, a half smile creeping onto her face. 

“Anxiety?” he asked although he knew he probably shouldn’t. He knew first hand how uncomfortable talking about something like that could be with someone you didn’t know but he couldn’t help himself. 

“Yeah, you?” she said, raising one eyebrow in challenge.

“Yeah” his answer came out a barely more than a breath. 

“How do you deal with it? I mean, the press and fans you have… does that not cause spikes all the time?” 

He bristled momentarily at the personal question, studying her closed off body language in contrast to her hazel eyes that were so open. 

“You know who I am?” was not the thing he wanted to say but there it was.

She laughed, and he saw her barrier come down just a bit as her shoulders relaxed and she lowered the notebook into her lap. 

“I have two young boys; Of course, I know who you are.” She offered.

When he only lowered his head and nodded, giving no indication he planned to continue the conversation, her penchant for verbal diarrhea took over.

“Look, I’m sorry. I am asking for purely selfish reasons.” 

Chris looked up shocked at her omission. Most people try to hide the fact that they were trying to use him to their advantage, but he could just tell she was being honest. 

“My very first book reading nearly killed me. I suffered and stumbled through it and it was one of the most humiliating things to happen to me. I cried for days after that. I hate public speaking. It’s why I chose to write in the first place. It’s talking to people, telling them a story, without having to see them. I still shake and struggle through the weight on my chest to push the words out of my throat every single time although, I’ve somehow managed to make it less noticeable to other people. I still cry every time.”

She took a deep breath, studying her hands before looking him square in the eyes, the fear in them so plain to see. 

“I was just hoping, as I imagine you are in uncomfortable situations often with what you do, that you may have some insight to coping mechanisms I could steal and use for myself.”

She only held his gaze for a moment after she was done before she dropped it with a humourless laugh. 

“Again, I’m sorry. Forget I said anything.”

She was smiling but he saw her retreat into herself just enough to give her away. 

“Alright,” he said standing. 

Rory was sure he would leave. Of course, he would. What kind of person lays all that on someone within minutes of meeting them?

When he sat down beside her and offered her some of his leftovers she was stunned. 

“This may sound cliché, but a good old-fashioned pep talk is key…” 

He launched into an equally personal and long-winded experience and before they knew it they were swapping war stories, safe places and all the things you can really only talk about in the dark. 


End file.
